


Charlie and the Demon Factory

by TwiceBakedPotato



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Dean's Sexual Awakening, Demon Dean Winchester, F/F, M/M, Season 10 divergence, Team ChesterPool, Tiny Flying Monkey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:29:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiceBakedPotato/pseuds/TwiceBakedPotato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is still a Demon. Deadpool is functionally crazy. And Charlie is finally back from Oz, and brought a couple new friends. Mainly Dorothy and Turple the Tiny Flying Monkey. After the ordeal with Vetis, all Dean wants is some peace and quiet, and maybe some time to figure out things with Wade. But Dean's never been good at getting what he wants.</p><p>(This is a re-post of something I took down a while back because various reasons, but you should totally read "Dean and Deadpool's Adventures in Madness" if you want to know what the hell is happening here and why.)</p><p>Bon appetite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Adventuring is a lot of work, Charlie discovered. It’s one thing to roll a 20 and Crit in a boss fight. It’s another thing entirely to actually have magical orbs lobbed at your head in a life and death battle to save the kingdom. A year in Oz, and Charlie had earned several scars, a nasty magic burn that covered her entire shoulder, and a bonafide fairy mark of protection.

Also, she fell in love. Completely head over heels for Dorothy Baum, who was the biggest badass Charlie ever met in her entire life. She was fearless and cunning, full of tricks and secrets to fight against the wicked witches and occasional angry tree. The apples weren’t even that good.

So, with Princess Ozma merrily upon her throne and the land is mostly a state of peace, Dorothy suggested to Charlie that they take a break from the adventuring life and go back to Earth for a while. Charlie had to fight hard to contain her enthusiasm for the trip. She was tired of sleeping in fields and tiny beds made for small people. And most of all, she was tired of constantly being in danger. All she wanted was a few weeks of peace and quiet getting caught up on comic books and Game of Thrones.

And computer. God, she missed her computer and smart phone. There were magic versions of these things, but the Oz corner of Avalon didn’t have wifi or Google. And that was just annoying, especially when you’re trying to figure out if a particular creature is friend or foe, or if this particular grove of sentient trees were friendly or trying to poison you.

They were trying to poison Charlie.

Thus, Dorothy found a convenient door and used the magic key, and next thing they knew, they were standing in the garage of the bunker.

Charlie saw Dean Winchester and immediately rushed across the room to throw her arms around her adopted big brother. She was practically in orbit by the time she let go of him. She was bouncing and talking fast about Munchkins, fairies, killing witches, finding loot, and showing off her magic, emerald-studded boots. She only belatedly realized that Sam was not the person standing beside Dean.

Meanwhile, Dean was trying to wrap his mind around the fact that the Lollypop Guild was flooding into the bunker’s garage. Wade Wilson was not helping. Not one little bit. He was too distracted by all the small people to be much use to anyone. Every time one ran by, Wade’s face lit up, and a soft, “Awwww!” would come out of his mouth.

Then Dorothy handed a leather satchel to Charlie, and a tiny flying monkey poked it’s head out. Wade just about melted into a puddle of joy.

“He’s so fuckin’ cute!” Wade said as Charlie handed the tiny monkey over, not even questioning who she was giving her so-called “child”. Charlie always figured, a friend of the Winchesters can’t be bad.

“That’s Turple,” Charlie said, stroking the critter between the wings. She beamed at the woman beside her, and added, “Dorothy named him.”

Charlie looked at Wade, then at Dean, eyebrows raised in a question that took Dean a minute to figure out.

“Oh!” Dean laughed nervously, and said, “He’s Wade. Wilson. Wade Wilson.”

Wade cooed at the tiny critter, and Dean thought the merc was going to faint when it touched his nose with its tiny hands. After a couple minutes, he reluctantly returned the tiny monkey, his eyes following another Munchkin as she ran towards the door to Oz.

The merc looked at Dean, a stupid grin on his face as he asked, “Can I keep one of them? Seriously, I’ll feed it and water it…”

“They are not pets,” Dorothy said, giving Wade a withering glare.

“I had to try,” Wade said with a shrug.

Dorothy eyed him a moment, then said to Dean, “Don’t worry. Only a couple are staying here. This was our farewell entourage.”

Charlie gasped, and bounced a couple times as she said, “We brought gifts!”

The gifts she spoke of came in large wooden cases that were etched with spellwork on the lids. Charlie picked up one of the boxes and handed it to Dean, then gasped and stumbled backwards when Dean’s eyes flickered black.

“Demon!” she shouted, raising a shotgun hidden under her long jacket.

Wade jumped in front of the gun just as the shot erupted, filling his chest with rock salt. Charlie screamed. Dorothy was shouting. The Munchkins were shrieking and running towards the door to Oz.

Dean caught Wade as he stumbled backwards.

Wade coughed, and said, “Looks like you got some explainin’ to do, Chester.”

“Who are you?” Dorothy demanded, taking a step into their space.

In one quick motion, Wade swept Dorothy’s legs out from under her, and took her guns. With a twist of his wrists, the firing mechanism dropped to the floor. He just glared at Charlie when she raised the shotgun again.

Wade’s eyes fixed on her, and he said flatly, “Do you really think that’s a wise idea?”

Charlie was shaking. Suddenly, she wanted to be worried about asshole trees again.

Dean stepped between them, facing Charlie. “Look, I can explain this. A lot of things have happened since you were here. Most of it not good.”

“You’re a demon?” Charlie said, her arms shaking as she lowered the gun.

Dean nodded. “You could say it was a necessary evil. It’s a really long story. And right now, I think I need a drink.”

Charlie looked at Wade. “What about him?”

“Not a demon,” Wade said patiently. He looked down at Dorothy, and said, “Are you gonna be nice, or do I have to be mean?”

Both Charlie and Dorothy glared at him. Dean touched his arm, a silent request that he step back. Wade nodded, but threw the remnants of the guns off the catwalk where they clattered onto the concrete.

The four walked inside, heading down to the main hall. Wade grabbed a couple beers out of the fridge. Dean headed for the decanters of whiskey. Charlie grabbed the last Red Bull. Dorothy just stood back with her arms crossed.

“First off? The good news,” Dean started after downing a glass, and starting to refill. “Sam’s fine. He’s alive. No longer possessed by Gadreel.”

“Gadreel?” Charlie asked. “I thought it was Zeke?”

“Yeah.” Dean cleared his throat. “Turns out that was a lie. It was a different angel. And, uh…” He cleared his throat again. “A lot of bad things happened because of that. But Sam’s fine now. Not dead. Not here, though. He’s still in New York, hopefully getting ready to work for Tony Stark.”

“Tony Stark?” Charlie said, her eyes going wide. “You mean Mr. Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist? That Tony Stark?”

“You forgot douchebag,” Wade grumbled, looking down at his chest. His shirt was in shreds from the shotgun blast, and every now and then a soft tink would echo through the room as his healing factor kicked another piece of buckshot out of his skin..

Charlie scrunched her brow. “How did that even happen?”

Dean looked at Wade, and said, “That’s actually another long story.”

Dorothy cocked her head, looking at Wade, and said, “Who exactly are you?”

“They call me Deadpool,” he answered. “Sometimes the Merc with a Mouth, which seems to imply that other mercs don’t have mouths. Or, my personal favorite, The Regenerating Degenerate. Or was it Degenerating Regenerate? Either way, I’m a human mutate who knows how to kill people in creative and exciting ways.”

As he talked, Charlie’s eyes got wide. “Shut UP! No way! You can’t possibly… You were in Spiderman!”

Wade shrugged. “It was late. We were drunk. Peter still denies it.”

Dean covered his eyes with his hand.

Charlie laughed.

Dorothy was unamused.

“I just can’t believe you’re real?” Charlie said, looking at him. “Like… Really?”

“Says the girl dating Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz,” Wade snarked back.

“Touche,” she said with a nod of approval.

“How about we get to the part where you turned into a demon that we shouldn’t be exorcising right now?” Dorothy chimed in, eyes fixed on Dean.

Dean took a breath and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the scar. “This is the Mark of Cain. Given to me by the man himself.”

“Nice dude. Has honey bees and a beard,” Wade interjected.

“Sammy and I were hunting for a knight of Hell named Abaddon. And Knights can only be killed by the First Blade, the blade Cain used to kill Abel,” Dean continued. “We got her, but shortly after, I ended up dead. As it turns out, other than giving me the ability to kill Knights of Hell, upon my death, the Mark turned me into a Knight of Hell. At the moment, I’m the only one.”

Dorothy’s frown deepened. “So, tell me, what does that mean?”

“It means I’m still me,” Dean answered. “It means I’m not possessed. And I haven’t harmed anyone. At least, no one who didn’t deserve it.”

“You say that now,” Dorothy said, not convinced.

“I can control myself,” Dean said, answering her statement. He looked at Wade, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve learned how to control the demon inside of me. Some days it takes more work than others. I’m still human, Dorothy. I still have a heart. And a brain.”

“And don’t forget your courage,” Wade added with a grin.

Dorothy rolled her eyes. “I’m not convinced.”

“Not my intention,” Dean said as he downed the last of his third glass. “Just telling you the facts. What you do with that is your business.”

Charlie stood up, and announced, “I’m really tired. Can we continue all this chit chat in the morning? Turple needs a banana.”

Wade’s eyes filled with hope, and he asked, “Can I feed the tiny flying monkey?”

Charlie shrugged. “Sure. I guess.”

Dean smiled, watching Wade and Charlie walk to the kitchen, and couldn’t hold back a laugh when the merc squealed with delight when the monkey took its first bite. Dorothy gave Dean another dirty look, before announcing she was going to the library. Dean poured another glass of whiskey, drank in too fast, then decided to take the decanter back to his room.

With the door shut, Dean turned his radio up loud and sat on the edge of his bed to start drinking in earnest. It wasn’t long before the decanter was empty, and Dean rummaged around until he found a bottle of tequila that had been stored in the closet since before the Mark.

All he wanted was some peace and quiet. Some time to think after all the bullshit with Vetis. He wanted time alone with Wade. Now, he had an angry huntress, a spazzy nerd, and a tiny monkey to contend with. Can’t even get one night alone…

There was a soft knock, and Dean pushed himself up from the bed, stumbling as he headed to the door. It was Wade, looking like everything Dean really wanted at that moment. He latched onto the merc, making him step back with his sudden armfuls of drunk hunter. The kiss was sloppy and overly eager.

Wade lifted Dean up, carrying him back into the room. The moment the door shut, Dean started trying to take off Wade’s shirt, and was having a hard time doing it. And Wade was not helping. Not at all. In fact, he was fighting Dean’s efforts. Until Dean rolled his eyes, and said, “Come on…”

“Not like this,” Wade said, gripping Dean’s upper arms. “You are drunk. And while I love the idea of getting you naked in bed, I want you to remember it, okay?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”

Wade kissed him, quick and soft, and said, “Seriously.”

“You didn’t care with Spiderman,” Dean pouted.

Wade kissed his forehead. “That was a joke, Chester.”

Dean fisted his hands in the tattered front of Wade’s shirt, and said, “Don’t leave. I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Like you could make me leave,” Wade said with an amused smile.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean woke in bed alone, and remembered that he was a complete idiot the night before. He was sure that Wade had stayed there, but he must have left. Then he rolled over and felt how warm the other side of the bed was. Right about then, the toilet flushed down the hall, which was followed by singing distorted by the shower. For a few minutes, he listened, trying to figure out what song Wade’s inner jukebox was playing, but it was something he didn’t recognize. Something upbeat and apparently had a long guitar solo. Dean smiled.

At first, he planned to just lay in bed, but the scent of coffee was like a Siren’s song. Dean got up and put on jeans and a clean t-shirt, then walked barefoot down to the kitchen where Charlie was reading Something Wicked from the Supernatural series while feeding Turple grapes. Dean grumbled about Wade sharing his book stash as he poured himself a cup and dug around in the pantry for cereal.

“Why are you reading that?” Dean asked as he sat in the seat adjacent to her.

Charlie grinned. “Doing research on my big brothers.”

Dean rolled his eyes and absorbed himself in the task of pouring milk. “How was your first night back?”

“Oh, you know, other than shooting your boyfriend in the chest and all…” She shrugged. “It was pretty good. Dot stayed up almost all night in the library. That’s where I found these,” she said, shaking the book for emphasis.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Dean said as he stuffed his mouth full of frosted flakes.

Charlie rolled her eyes, slapping the book shut. “Don’t even.”

“Don’t even what?” Dean asked with a full mouth.

“Don’t even lie.” Charlie shook her head. “I saw you two together. In the hall. Last night. Your tongue was down his throat.”

Dean’s face was turning red. “I, uh… Okay, we kind of have a… a ‘thing’ happening. I guess. I don’t know what to call it. But the boyfriend label makes me sound like a kid. We’re not kids.”

“Manfriend?” Charlie offered with a giggle.

“He’s my…” Dean thought about it for a few seconds before saying, “He’s my Wade. That’s what he is.”

“That is such a Hobbit way of putting it,” Charlie said, still giggling. “But seriously, it’s obvious you two have a ‘thing’. And, don’t take this the wrong way, but I kinda always thought that you played more for my team.”

“It’s not a your-team thing either.” Dean shrugged. “He’s the only guy I’ve had this kind of a feeling about.” He was silent a minute, digging around in his cereal bowl. Then he mumbled, “The whole thing is kinda confusing at times. Because… I don’t know… I’ve never been… I mean… I don’t…”

Charlie smiled sympathetically. “You’re a man-virgin?”

Dean covered his eyes with his hand. “Yes. Mostly. Yes.”

“Mostly?” Charlie said, scooting closer to him. “What does that mean?”

“Once, when I was a teenager…” Dean’s jaw tensed as he said, “Me and this guy… It wasn’t sex, exactly. Just, uh…”

“Jerking off together?” Charlie asked, bluntly.

“Yeah,” Dean said, his ears burning. “It was a one time thing, and I really liked the guy.  But the next day, Dad finished the hunt, and we were back on the road.” He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. Like 20 years ago now. I don’t even remember his name...”

“That’s actually kind of sad,” Charlie said with a sigh. “My first girlfriend was when I was like 11 or something? It was puppy love. But she ditched me in high school because she didn’t like being called a lesbian, and I didn’t give a damn.” She was quiet a moment before asking, “What about Wade?”

“He, uh…” Dean took another bite of his cereal, then another before saying, “Wade has experience, which is kind of scary.”

“Why?” Charlie asked, her head tilted.

He shrugged. “I mean, I get the logistics of what we would be doing together. Generally. But…I guess I don’t… I feel…”

Charlie put a hand on his forearm, and said, “My advice? Only do what you are comfortable with. Even if for a while that’s just the cuddling and eye-sex.” He gave her a look, but she plunged ahead, “Don’t go rushing into anything, because that will make things awkward. Trust me. I’ve been there, but kind of on the other side of things.”

Dean sighed. “But...”

“No buts,” she said, jabbing a finger at him. “If he really likes you, he’s not going to push you. Also, you really should talk to him about this stuff.”

Dean nodded and took another bite of cereal, and softly said, “I kinda tried to, you know, last night. But he turned me down because I was drinking.”

Charlie smiled. “Awww. He’s a gentleman. Did he also hold your hair while you puked?”

Dean glared at her, then said, “No. He didn’t. There was no puking.”

That was when they both heard footsteps on the stairs. A moment later, Wade came into the kitchen in black lounge pants and a long sleeved t-shirt with a Pokeball in the middle of the chest. His hat was also missing, leaving his scarred, bald head available for easy viewing. It made Dean feel warm inside that the merc felt comfortable enough to be so exposed, especially around strangers.

“Good morning, Wade,” Charlie said with a big smile. “Sorry again for shooting you yesterday.”

He laughed as he grabbed his coffee cup with the Deadpool logo on the side, pouring as he said, “Eh, what’s a few bullets in the chest among friends?” He held the pot out to her.

Charlie’s brow scrunched, but she laughed and accepted a refill, then grinned like an idiot when Wade sat beside Dean. Dean gave her a look, even as his face started to turn pink again. Wade poked Turple’s belly, then snatched the cereal and shoved a handful in his mouth.

The kitchen fell silent, except for Wade’s crunching and occasional coffee slurping. Charlie pretended to read her book, but couldn’t stop looking at Dean and Wade, the way they leaned into each other, the soft affection in the merc’s eyes. She had the feeling that having the room across from Deans was going to become oddly uncomfortable at some point in the future.

Then Turple let out a belch, and Wade let out a squeal of delight.

Boot steps in the main hall drew everyone’s attention as Dorothy walked by, not pausing as she strolled by the kitchen, giving only a quick glance their direction. Charlie frowned, and plucked Turple off her shoulder, gently handing him to Wade, who looked about ready to explode from joy.

“Take care of him for a minute?” she said, eyes pleading.

Wade nodded. “Can I feed him another banana?”

“He’s already eaten,” Charlie said.

“But can I feed him another banana?”

Charlie gave him her best glare, then disappeared down the hall.

Wade cupped Turple in his big hands, eyes mesmerized on every move the little critter made. Dean grinned, seeing this side of the merc. He was rough with a history of violence, but he was also a big softy at the core. All sides were appealing to Dean. The hunter imagined that no other person--male or female--could put up with someone like him. He needed someone forceful and tough, someone who knew what it meant to suffer and survive impossible situations.

As he gently pet the top of Turple’s head, Dean started, “About last night…”

“Don’t sweat it, Chester,” Wade interrupted, giving Dean a light nudge with his elbow. The merc set Turple on the table, keeping him corralled in the loop of his arms. “Though, really, I should get a friggin’ medal for not bending you over the bed and having my way with you.”

Dean was practically purple.

“But, I’m sort of a gentleman. Or at least I play one on TV. However...” Wade leaned to Dean’s ear, his voice a deep, vibrating whisper as his lips brushed his earlobe, “...If you would like to join me in the bedroom after I’m done petting the monkey…”

A laugh bubbled out of Dean even as his pants grew tight. He looked at Wade, at the glow of mirth in his eyes, and the hunter said, “I have a really confused boner right now.”

Then there was a door slamming somewhere, and both of them sat up as Charlie came back in the kitchen. She looked upset as she plopped back in her chair.

Dean cleared his throat. “You okay?”

Charlie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Dorothy wants to go back to Oz. Now. Today.” She sighed. “And that’s bullshit, because that’s not what we agreed. At all. I need time away from all that hero and quest insanity. I need a break. That’s why we’re here.”

“Is it because of me?” Dean asked, already knowing the answer.

Charlie sighed. “She’s not even going to give you a chance.” She growled, and ran a hand back through her hair. “I’m just… I love her, and I want this to work. I really do. But I’m not going to ditch my friends because she says so.”

Wade handed Turple back to Charlie, and said, “What if I gave you two love birds and all expense trip to fucking wherever, and you didn’t have to be here?”

“Doesn’t fix the problem,” Charlie said with a sigh. She made a quick motion with her hand, and said, “This is my family now.”

Wade’s eyes brightened. “How about a trip to New York? You can meet the X-Men and the Avengers. Hang with Castiel and Sammy? I have a friend with real adamantium claws. You’d probably dig him.”

“Are you trying to get me out of the bunker?” Charlie asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Not at all,” Wade answered, the picture of innocence.

Dean cleared his throat, and said, “I really love the fact that you are going to bat for me with this whole demon-good-guy thing, but I don’t want you getting hurt because of it, okay? I want you to be happy.”

“But I’m not happy either way,” she said with a sigh, snuggling Turple to her chest. “It’s not supposed to be like this. I mean, I know that everytime I’m with the Winchesters, things go a little wonky, but…”

A shrill howl ripped through the air, and Dean jumped to his feet knocking over his chair as his eyes turned pitch black. Charlie let out a squeak, clutching Turple protectively.   

“Hellhounds,” Dean said, looking at Wade.

Wade frowned. “Super.”

Dean started to the door, saying over his shoulder, “Take Charlie to the dungeon. It’s still warded.”

Charlie let out a squeak as Wade scooped her up and rushed out of the kitchen. In less than a minute, he found Dean by the entrance and had his katanas in his hands. Dorothy appeared a moment later with a shotgun at the ready.

“Friends of yours?” the huntress asked with obvious disdain.

There was another round of howling. From the sound of it, there were at least three hellhounds outside the door. But there was also the sound of heavy, panicked breathing, followed by pounding on the door.

“Let me in! Fucking hell! Open the bloody door!”

Wade took a ready stance. Dorothy pumped her shotgun. Dean grabbed the door handle, and jerked it open. A body slammed into him, cursing and shouting, followed by the snarl of the hellhounds.

With a quick swipe of his katana, Wade cut one of the demon dogs in two, and Dorothy pumped round after round of rock salt in the direction of the beasts. Then Dean stepped out, his eyes glowing a hellish red. He could see their grotesque faces, and with a wave of his hand, banished them back to the pit.

Back inside, the lump of frightened human was curled up in a ball, shaking and sobbing. Dorothy knelt down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder as she said, “Come on. Snap out of it. Who are you? What are you doing here?”

The man sat up, and for the first time Dean saw his face, and his eyes again turned black. In a voice darkened by hate, he growled, “Crowley.”

Crowley held up shaking hands. “Please… Please don’t kill me.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley did not put up a fight, didn’t even make some kind of snarky witticism as he was escorted to the dungeon, where Charlie was waiting with her shotgun in hand and Turple on her shoulder. He walked straight to the chair at the center of the devil’s trap, and held out his hands for Dorothy to clasp the spellwork etched bindings onto his wrists.

Meanwhile, Wade was busy talking Dean down from what was building up to be a hell of a demonic tantrum. His eyes were still burning with that strange red fire, an effect that the Merc had never seen before. There were a lot of layers to being a Knight of Hell, and Dean was discovering them one violent outburst at a time.

As the fire burned out of Dean’s eyes, Wade asked, “Do we need to go out to the woods, Chester?”

Dean took a deep breath, looking down at the floor. There was blood there, and he couldn’t remember how it got there. Then he took a good look at the merc, at the gash in the side of his shirt. He gritted his teeth, and threw the First Blade across the room, embedding the bone into the wall.

“Fuck…” Dean shouted, covering his face.

Wade put a hand on his shoulder, but frowned when Dean shrugged him  off.

“Don’t,” Dean growled. “Don’t fucking act like this is okay.”

Now the merc was just confused. “It’s already healed?”

“I can’t do this,” Dean said in a pained whisper.

“Do what?” Wade asked flatly.

Dean made a sweeping motion with his arm, trying to express something that his mouth wasn’t doing properly. Wade still looked confused, and Dean kept fish-mouthing, but nothing was coming out.

Finally, Wade rolled his eyes, and pulled Dean into a kiss. At first, Dean tried to fight him off, refused to join, but the merc was having none of it. He was patient, but persistent. It only took a few seconds before Dean gave up and started kissing him back. Wade cupped his face in his hands, while Dean’s hands settled on the merc’s hips.

After a few minutes, they broke apart, their foreheads resting together. Dean was shivering, his face flushed.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean said softly. “Even if you heal.”

Wade brushed his lips against the corner of Dean’s mouth. “That’s why I love you, Chester.”

“Love me?” Dean said, his eyes locking with Wade’s.

The merc just smiled, and said, “I’m sure we’re needed in the dungeon. Come on.”

For a moment, Dean was frozen in place, watching the merc saunter away like he hadn’t just given the hunter a one-two punch in the emotions. He felt dazed, and now more than ever, he really, really wanted a drink.

A moment later, Charlie was calling for him, and Dean had to snap himself out of the haze of confusion that Wade had left in his wake. He took a few deep breaths, stealing himself to go to the dungeon. Knowing Crowley, he would bait and jab, pick at Dean’s weak spots. Do whatever he could to get under the hunter’s skin.

He really wasn’t prepared to find Crowley doubled over in the chair, sobbing uncontrollably as Dorothy and Charlie watched him from the edge of the trap. Wade was standing against the wall, just outside the perimeter of the warding.

“How the mighty have fallen,” Wade said with a roll of his eyes. “The girls say he’s been doing that since they chained him.”

Dean took a deep breath, and said, “Cut the shit, Crowley. Why are you here?”

Dorothy looked at Dean, and said, “I don’t think he’s a demon anymore.”

“You done the tests?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” she said, giving him a dirty look.

“Which one?” Dean demanded.

Dorothy’s eyes narrowed as she flatly said, “Christo!”

Dean’s eyes flickered black and he stumbled backwards. It was the first time someone had spoken the name of God to him since his demonic transformation. The feeling it left was cold, yet burning. Like icy fingers dug into his skin and left fire behind. He shuddered.

Crowley was not affected. His eyes, while bloodshot and watery, did not turn black. He didn’t flinch. But the moment he looked at Dean, the tears again flooded out of his eyes and he gasped, “I’m sorry, Dean. Please… I… I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you.”

What bothered Dean was the sincerity of it. If Crowley was faking, he was putting on an Oscar worthy performance. The anguish was etched in the bitter lines of his face. There wasn’t a shred of the cockiness and smug that always hung off of him like bad cologne. He was a shattered, sad shell of his former self.

Dean cleared his throat, and asked, “Why are you here?”

“I…It’s so hard to...” The King of Hell swallowed hard, looking down at the floor. After a moment of studying the spellwork, he said, “I have made a lot of mistakes. But none so big as thinking I actually was the ruler of Hell.”

“Oh, boo-fuckin’-hoo,” Dean growled. “So you’re not the king. Why are you running from Hellhounds?”

Crowley gritted his teeth, and said, “Because I was banished from the pit. Removed, as it were, from power. And to add insult to injury, I was...cured.” He fell silent, a bitter look in his eyes as he said, “The Ancient Evils are coming back. The sort of primordial demons. The Lords of Hell.” He took a deep breath. “They’ve been working in secret, trying to create a master army that will conquer the world in their name. And these aren’t demons. They are the original fallen angels.”

“Like Vetis?” Dean asked, starting to get interested.

Crowley’s brow furrowed. “How… How do you know about Vetis?”

Dean’s jaw tensed, and Wade said, “I have a history with the motherfucker. Sammy Winchester killed him about a week ago.”

“A week?” Crowley said, surprised. “That… That’s when it started.”

“What started?” Dorothy asked.

“Revolution? I guess?” He shrugged. “Vetis was one of the minor players. Astaroth is the mastermind behind all of this. He’s the one who removed my demonic powers. Threw me back on Earth with a beating heart and bloody emotions, then sicked the hounds on me.”

Wade cocked his head to the side, eyes casting a dangerous glare. “Did you know about the experiments on mutants?”

“No,” Crowley answered, his hands shaking. “That was happening without my knowledge. A lot was happening without my knowledge. Abaddon was a handy distraction, it seems.” He sighed, giving his face another swab with his sleeve. “There is a great deal happening that I had no knowledge of. Demons, as it seems, are very much second class citizens. Even in Hell.”

“How many of these Ancient Evils are there?” Dorothy asked. “Vetis is dead. How many more?”

“Thousands,” Dean said with a heavy sigh. When they were staring down the barrel of the last Apocalypse, he’d studied the Bible and every other ancient text he could get his hands on. Over and over, the same thing was said: War in Heaven, and a third of the angels fell with Lucifer. A third could be an impossibly large number. And after everything that has happened with the Fall, the numbers could be greater than the Host of Heaven.

Crowley cleared his throat, again looking down at the floor. “There’s more. And this is the part that I came here to tell you in person, even if it means you kill me where I sit.”

Dean locked eyes with the deposed king.

“They will be coming for you,” Crowley said. “Vetis was the first. But there will be others. They already know where you are. Me being here makes no difference. They are circling you like vultures, wanting to collect their most powerful weapon. Michael’s vessel. The Knight of Hell.”

Charlie looked at Dean. There was so much fear in her eyes, it made Dean ache. He may not have dragged her into the world of the supernatural, but he hadn’t exactly tried to scare her away. Even after meeting djinn and fairies. The Charlie he met hunting Dick Roman was innocent and unassuming. Now, Charlie was just as much a hunter as Dean or Dorothy. She had a hard look to her that only people who’ve seen too much have. But everyone can break.

Dean was starting to feel that familiar weight on his shoulders. The feeling that things were suddenly just too big and too scary for his small family to deal with. He didn’t want to know all of this. Didn’t want to feel the weight of the world bearing down on him.

Without a word, Dean walked away from the dungeon, breaking into a run at the end of the hall, going straight to his bedroom where he left his cell phone. With shaking fingers, he dialed Sam’s number, but as soon as it rang, he threw the phone against the wall where it shattered into pieces.

Everything felt like it was spinning, and Dean stumbled, falling into something hard. It took him a couple minutes to realize that it was Wade who was trying to lift him up from the floor. He was talking, but Dean couldn’t hear him. Sounds were muffled by the buzzing in his head and the thundering in his chest. All he could see was the darkness moving in on him, reaching out with claws that would drag him down into the madness of destiny that he’d fought against his entire life.

First it was Azazel. Then the angels. And now it was happening again, coming back around. Only now he wasn’t the vessel for the ultimate good guy. He was the embodiment of Hell’s greatest enforcer. The Knight who would go into battle against all humanity. He knew that was the truth.

“I’m not going to let that happen,” Wade said, his rough voice finally coming through the haze of Dean’s own rambling. “We’re going to figure this out. You’re not alone, Dean.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

The first order of business, whether Dean liked it or not, was to fix the warding on the bunker. Dorothy took charge of that task, and by noon, Dean’s only available space was Wade’s bedroom. Originally, he would just be restricted to his own quarters, but after Wade brought up the fact that Dean’s human half still needed to use the toilet, a compromise was reached.

It only took about an hour to move all of Dean’s things, including his bed, to the merc’s room. And while it looked the same in every way to his own living quarters (plus a few extra weapons and Deadpool costumes), it felt more like a prison. Especially since he couldn’t walk down to the refrigerator or liquor cabinet.

Crowley chose to remain in the dungeon, even after passing the full spectrum of demon tests. He was without a doubt, completely cured--as far as Dorothy was concerned. But Dean didn’t trust him. Couldn’t trust him. Neither did Wade. In the end, their grumbling fell on deaf ears.

The next thing was to call Sam and Castiel, though Dean really didn’t want to. Sam had a grand total of two days of a bright future, and big brother was sweeping in to destroy it again. Dean borrowed Wade’s phone, and found his brother’s number under Samsquatch.

Sam answered on the second ring. “Wade?”

“It’s me,” Dean said. He fish-mouthed a few times before finally saying, “Something’s come up. I… I don’t… I’m sorry, Sammy.”

“What happened?” Sam asked, his tone somber.

Dean thoroughly brought Sam up to speed, down to the fact that the apocalypse was very much back on the table. When he was done, Sam was quiet for a long time, and Dean knew why.

“This is…” Sam started, then cleared his throat. “What… What do I need to do?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said with a heavy sigh. “They are after me. According to Crowley, they already know where I am. I guess… What I need…”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. might be able to help?” Sam said, the question heavy in his voice. “We have resources we didn’t have before. Maybe Banner’s work on your blood? Maybe… Maybe we could try to cure you, like Cas and I wanted to before.”

Dean’s voice was hard. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we’re no worse off than we are now,” Sam said defiantly. “We’ll keep working. We’ll figure it out. We stopped Lucifer. We stopped Vetis. We can handle this.”

“You ever wonder if our luck is running out?” Dean asked softly. “Because after the last couple years, I’m not so sure we have a lot of wins left.”

“Doesn’t mean we stop trying,” Sam said with more confidence than Dean felt. “I’m going to talk to some people here, and then Cas and I will head your way. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean said on a sigh, then hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed. He buried his face in his hands, and generally felt hopeless. Sam was on his way, but he was just another potential casualty. He took a deep breath, then looked up to find Wade leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, Turple clinging to his right bicep.

Dean cleared his throat. “You need something?”

“Gotta run to the store to pick up a couple things,” he said with a half-smile. “You gonna be okay here for a couple hours?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Of course. Gonna just, I dunno, take a nap.” He glanced at the shelf, at the stacks of Deadpool comics. “Maybe do some light reading.”

“Charlie’s coming with me, so you’re on Turple duty,” Wade said with a grin as he walked to the bed, extending the tiny critter to Dean. Turple walked up to his shoulder and snuggled into the collar of Dean’s shirt. “He likes you.”

“He likes everyone,” Dean said with a forced half smile, scratching the ever thickening stubble on his chin.

Wade sat beside him, leaning into the hunter’s shoulder. “You need anything? I mean, this sucks being confined and all.”

Dean shook his head. “Nah. I can manage.”

“Sammy’s gonna try to cure you, isn’t he?” Wade said softly, looking down at the floor.

“Yeah. I guess.” Dean saw the slump of the merc’s shoulders, and asked, “Does that bother you?”

Wade looked at him from under the bill of his low pulled baseball cap. He looked like there was something he wanted to say, but he just shook his head. “Nope. Doesn’t bother me at all.” He stood up, giving Dean’s shoulder a soft squeeze before he walked out the door.

Charlie was waiting for Wade in the garage. She looked just about as happy as the merc as they got in the Imposter Impala and drove away from the bunker. Outside, it was turning into a pretty hot day, with clear skies and bright sun that did nothing to lighten the mood.

After a couple miles in tense silence, Charlie blurted out, “This is so totally fucked.”

“No shit,” Wade grumbled.

“I mean, seriously.” Charlie turned towards him, her face a mix of emotions. “This whole thing is just insane. I mean, seriously, completely, beyond the pale of madness. The apocalypse? Really? The. Fuck.”

“You are preaching to the choir, sister,” Wade said with a smirk. “I’ve been fighting the apocalypse since Apocalypse.”

“How...I mean…” Charlie let out a frustrated growl. “How did this even happen? Seriously? My life was normal, once upon a time.”

Wade shrugged. “I don’t remember normal life. That’s all been erased. All I’ve ever known is varying levels of Fucked Up. But this, right now, I’m not a fan of.” His jaw tensed, thinking back to a time he barely remembered and couldn’t forget. Thinking about Nathan Summers, who was so ready to sacrifice himself. Who did sacrifice himself. He laughed bitterly, and said, “The writers don’t like happy endings.”

Charlie looked at him for a moment, studying him. “You really believe all that ‘fourth wall’ stuff, don’t you? Like in the books.”

He sighed heavily. “I don’t know how else to explain it. Nobody has my kind of bad luck.”

“Except the Winchesters,” Charlie said sadly.

Wade nodded. “Except the Winchesters.”

Charlie paused, looking at Wade. “Do you think there’s writers out there putting me into stories?”

He smiled at her. “Welcome to my world.”

Their destination was the Lebanon Walmart. Charlie went to the electronics department to find a new phone to replace the one Dean smashed. Wade went to the household goods, and grabbed a mini-fridge, then headed to Electronics by way of Health and Beauty. Charlie was still examining the phones, and Wade decided to pick up a TV since the only one in the bunker was in the Library.

Charlie looked at the merc’s stash of goods, and smiled at Wade. “Awwww! Look at you, all squishy with making Dean happy.”

“The guy needs a little joy now and then,” Wade said off handedly, looking at the DVD’s. He was trying to decide between Doctor Who Series 8 or Downton Abby, eventually deciding to take both. Charlie threw in Big Bang Theory Season 7.

They strolled through the grocery department, picking up cereal and milk, pasta and rice, snack foods and energy drinks, along with several bottles of whiskey, wine, and two cases of beer. Charlie looked at the precarious stack of items, and had to wonder if everything would fit in the car.

While waiting in the checkout lane, a couple of teenagers got in line behind them. Charlie was the one to notice the way they were blatantly gawking at Wade, snickering and making jokes that seemed to get louder by the second. Wade’s jaw tensed, and his hands tightened on the cart. For a moment, Charlie was worried that the merc was going to go all Deadpool and bash their heads together.

Instead, he rolled his head on his shoulders, the bones making a loud popping sound before he started unloading the cart. He was quiet, too. Which Charlie did not like, especially since they’d been joking throughout their entire shopping trip.

The cashier was an older woman, and her eyes narrowed at the teenagers as she took Wade’s bank card. She gave him the receipt, with a smile and a sweet, “You have a blessed day, sugar.”

Wade smirked, and walked out of the store.

Charlie helped with the smaller items, standing by while Wade wiggled the refrigerator in the back seat.

“Those guys were assholes,” Charlie growled.

Wade grunted, pushing against the box. “You get used to it when you look like Freddy Kruger’s stunt double.”

“That’s mean,” Charlie said with a frown.

A final push, and the box made it all the way into the car. Wade slammed the door, and shrugged his shoulders. “Might be mean, but it’s the truth.”

Charlie shook her head. “No. It’s not.”

“Have you looked at me?” Wade asked, taking off his baseball cap, giving Charlie a good look at his face, in all of its scarred glory.

And Charlie did look. She saw the angry red lines of scar tissue, the patches of thin puckered flesh that covered his chin, the tight skin surrounding his right eye that looked dry and irritated, like a burn that hadn’t been properly cared for. But all those things were superficial. At least to her. All she could see, really see, was the man her adopted big brother loved. He was strong and nearly invincible, but still fragile. He had been through hell and back, but still had his insecurities, and all she wanted to do was hug him.

She smiled at him, and said, “I see why Dean likes you so much.”

Wade just shook his head, replaced his ball cap, and got in the car.

Back at the bunker, everything was exactly as they left it. Dorothy was in the Library. Crowley was in the dungeon. And Dean was sleeping with Turple snuggled into his shirt pocket, Deadpool #12 laying open on his stomach.

Charlie took Turple out of Dean’s pocket, careful not to wake the sleeping hunter, then headed down to the library. Wade went to work setting up the refrigerator. The clink of bottles stirred Dean from his sleep, and he sat up, studying the merc with narrow eyes before he smiled.

“Seriously?” he said with a soft laugh.

Wade looked over his shoulder and shrugged. “I like my creature comforts. And I like you. I prefer to have both at once.” He stood, closing the refrigerator door and picking up another sack by his feet. “I got some other things you need, too.”

Dean cocked his head to the side, then got up to follow Wade to the bathroom. Next thing he knew, Wade was locking the door and unbuttoning Dean’s over shirt.

“Uh, Wade…” Dean said with a nervous laugh. “Not that I exactly disapprove, but what are you doing?”

“Taking care of a small problem,” Wade answered, giving him a coy look.

With his face slowly heating up, Dean squeaked out, “What problem?”

“Your face,” Wade said, giving the hunter a quick peck on the lips.

Dean’s brow furrowed. “My face?”

“While I really love the rugged, stubbled look, you don’t need to be that sexy all the time,” Wade said as he removed an electric shaver from the bag. He removed the packaging, and plugged it into the outlet on the counter. “Also, you’re giving me rugburn every time I kiss you.”

He didn’t say, Because you lost your shit when you cut yourself the last time you shaved, and I really don’t want to see that again. For which, Dean was very thankful.

Dean was blushing as the merc moved into his personal space, pinning him with his hips against the counter. Then, he grabbed Dean’s waist and lifted him up on the counter, the hunter letting out a surprised yelp.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, a little breathless.

“Taking care of you,” Wade answered as he grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in hot water. He gently pressed it to Dean’s stubbled face, holding it in place, leaning in to press a searing kiss to the hunter’s lips. The tangle of mouths and tongues lasted for several minutes, and when Wade pulled away, Dean followed hungrily. Then Wade started to shave Dean’s face, using smooth, practiced strokes. Dean never used an electric, never feeling it gave him the close shave he wanted. But somehow, Wade made it work, punctuating every few strokes with a press of his lips against smooth skin.

When Wade was finished, Dean was stubble free and floating on a sea of arousal. He couldn’t stop touching the merc, couldn’t stop pulling him in for another kiss, another touch.

“I bet we have about two minutes before someone knocks on that door,” Wade said, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. He nuzzled into Dean’s neck, and whispered, “Wanna take this to the bedroom?”

Dean was having a hard time making words again. Wade seemed to have that effect on him. So instead, he just stood up, grabbed the front of Wade’s shirt and tugged him towards the hall.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PORN!! Just PORN!!

For a man who had a plan for every situation he entered, once Dean crossed the threshold of his bedroom with the merc behind him, he really had no idea where to go from there. If Wade was a woman, he’d have a pretty clear vision of what would happen. But Wade was not a woman. He was a mercenary with an erection that would make most men feel meek, and he was right behind the hunter. Big, firm hands rested on Dean’s hips, thumbs rubbing circles on his back. He pressed his lips to the back of Dean’s neck, and the hunter released a gasp of pleasure at the touch.

“Bed?” Wade whispered in his ear, his voice deep and rumbling, making the hair stand up on the back of Dean’s neck.

Dean swallowed hard, and barely managed to say, “Yeah.”

Wade turned him around, and smirked seeing the dazed look in Dean’s eyes. A mix of terror and arousal, and the two emotions were fighting for dominance. The merc leaned in, pressing a light kiss to the hunter’s lips, and he whispered, “We’ll take this slow, okay?” He kissed the corner of Dean’s mouth. “If you don’t like something I do, tell me. If you want something I’m not doing, tell me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Dean said softly.

They sat on the edge of the bed, and for a while just kissed. At first it was sweet and gentle, slowly becoming more insistent until Wade pulled back and said, “Too many clothes, don’t you think?”

Dean nodded and Wade grabbed the hem of the hunter’s shirt, lifting it so his fingertips trailed along Dean’s ribs. It was that moment that Wade discovered that Dean Winchester, badass  hunter extraordinaire, was ticklish.  Wade whipped the shirt over Dean’s head, then commenced to tickling him until Dean was on his back gasping for air and begging him to stop.

“You are gonna pay for that,” Dean promised, though he was still grinning.

“Unlikely,” Wade answered with a cocked eyebrow. “There’s only one place on my body that is ticklish.”

As an almost involuntary response, Dean’s eyes flicked to Wade’s ever growing erection.

The merc just laughed. “Sorry, Chester. Wrong answer.”

Wade crawled over him, taking a moment to admire the view of Dean’s gorgeous body. He wanted to remember every detail, use the flushed, happy look in Dean’s eyes to cover over the bad things that haunted him.

Then he felt Dean’s hands slipping under his t-shirt, and Wade remembered that they both were expected to be naked. For the first time, the merc felt a little self-conscious. He didn’t want the sight of his mutilated flesh to ruin the moment, and his hands stopped Dean from his mission.

“Maybe we should turn off the light,” Wade said, going for playful, but his voice betrayed his sudden bout of nerves.

Dean gently stroked the skin under his hands, feeling the contours and bumps, and said, “I want to see you, Wade.” The merc frowned, and Dean offered a soft smile, hand reaching again for the hem of his shirt.

Though he really didn’t want to, Wade went ahead and pulled his shirt off. It was one thing to be naked in front of someone, and another thing to have that someone study your flesh up close. He didn’t like the feeling of being scrutinized, but when he finally looked back at Dean, all he could see was...wonder?

Carefully, Dean’s hands roamed over the scars and ruined flesh that stretched tight over the merc’s bulging muscles. It reminded Dean of the patterns in marble statues, as if the body above him had been sculpted and shaped. A thing of beauty.

“Now I’m blushing,” Wade said, actually looking away from Dean’s not so inner thoughts.

Dean laughed at himself. “I really gotta work on my internal monologue.”

“Dean?”

“Huh?”

Wade leaned down, pressing his lips softly to the hollow of the hunter’s neck, and whispered, “Do you ever shut up?”

“Fuck you, Wade,” Dean snarked back, then let out a small shout when the merc’s teeth lightly nipped his nipple. Part of him wanted to cuss, but the only thing that came out of his mouth were words of encouragement.

There was only a slight pause, a look from the merc for confirmation and a quick nod of Dean’s head, before Wade unbuckled the hunter’s belt. Dean could not hold back a moan of absolute pleasure when the merc took his cock in hand. Every motion he made, every subtle turn of his wrist, the angle he took, proved one thing to Dean: He was amazingly, astoundingly happy that Wade Wilson knew what the fuck he was doing.

The warm wetness of Wade’s mouth against the head of his cock made Dean’s eyes spring open, and he propped himself up on his elbows to take in the sight. He had to bite his lip to keep from losing it, hearing the dirty slurping sounds and feeling the merc’s tongue swirling around the head of his cock with each shallow thrust. Dean’s jaw went slack when Wade sucked him into his throat with a moan that vibrated the hunter’s balls. Not since his first time had Dean been so close, so fast.

“W-Wade… I… nnngh…” was apparently enough to express his thoughts to the merc, who pulled off of Dean with a wet pop that made the hunter’s body shudder.

Wade stood, unbuckling his pants, letting them drop with a thud that made Dean wonder what all he carried in his pockets. But that thought was replaced quickly when he took in the sight of the merc’s cock. His mouth watered, and he moved to the edge of the bed with his heart pounding hard against his ribs as he wrapped a shaking hand around the thick, scarred flesh.

Though it practically hurt to utter the words, Wade breathed out, “You don’t have to.”

There was a moment of hesitation, a beat of a heart where Dean considered backing out. But dammit, Dean was a giver who never did a job half way. He licked his lips, going over a quick list of all the things he learned on the receiving end. No teeth, most importantly. He gave Wade a couple strokes, took a deep breath, and took the merc into his mouth.

The first thing he noticed was the taste, the bitter flavor of precum. For a moment, it was a little bit too much, but after that, all he could taste was salty flesh and his own slick saliva. And the sounds the merc made, sweet lord, Dean felt like he was floating on the sound alone.

Wade couldn’t believe this was happening. Honestly, he had no clue that Dean would do this. In fact, he didn’t think he would. Thus, looking down and seeing the intensity on the hunter’s face was the most magical thing the merc had ever laid eyes on. This was actually happening. Right now. To him.

“Fuck, Chester,” Wade gasped out, threading his fingers through Dean’s hair and fighting the urge to thrust into his mouth. He nearly blacked out when Dean took him deep, so deep the hunter gagged. And dammit, that shouldn’t be hot, but when he looked down and saw the way Dean’s eyes watered as he tried to take him down all the way, Wade had to grab the base of his cock to keep from coming right that instant.

Wade lifted Dean, moving him back on the bed. Their mouths again met, and it was loose and sloppy, a mess of tongues and breath and Fuck, Wade was about to lose his mind with just the taste of the hunter’s mouth. He reached between them, gripping both their cocks in his hand, moving at a quick pace because--goddamn!-- he wanted to come. It didn’t take long before they both tensed, and Dean let out a shout, followed a moment later by Wade. Wade stroked them both through it, and with a shudder, the merc collapsed on top of the hunter.

For a minute, they just lay there, breathing heavily and reveling in the afterglow. Dean’s mind was a complete blank. All the nerves and apprehension that had fogged his mind before were gone, replaced with a warm feeling inside that he didn’t know how to define. Despite the looming apocalypse, despite Crowley, despite Hell looming over his head, Dean couldn’t stop smiling.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Meanwhile, down in the dungeon, Crowley was seated against the wall wondering whether or not he should inform Dean that the ventilation system was practically an echo chamber.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YET MORE PORN!!

Waking up wrapped around Wade was something Dean could easily get used to. He snuggled closer, hand drawing idle circles against the hard muscle of the merc's abdomen. He pressed his lips to a red patch of skin on the merc's shoulder, causing Wade to stir.

The merc made a low humming sound, and his hand covered Dean's. "S'nice way to wake up."

Dean brushed a kiss behind Wade’s ear. "It's early still. You can go back to sleep."

Wade rolled on to his back and pulled Dean into a proper kiss, his hand bringing Dean's down to his already hardening cock. A muffled moan escaped the merc's mouth when the hunter's hand immediately tightened. He really couldn't believe that this was his life right now.

They took their time, using languid strokes of their hands and tongues, slowly building to more demanding touches, until Wade flipped Dean onto his back. As if by magic, Dean immediately wrapped his legs around the merc’s waist. Still kissing the hunter, Wade felt around under his pillow and let out a growl when he didn’t find the lube he’d stashed there the night before.

Dean gave him a questioning look, and Wade gave him a quick peck on the lips, mumbling, “One second.” He crawled over to the edge of the bed, feeling around the floor until his fingers brushed against the plastic bottle. He gripped it and sat up, holding the bottle triumphantly.

The hunter’s eyes went a little wide when Wade popped the cap and squeezed a liberal amount onto his fingers.

“Remember what I told you last night,” Wade said as he returned to his place between Dean’s legs. “If you don’t want this…”

With a deep, shuddering breath, Dean lay back, trying to relax. But he couldn’t quite hide the way his body jumped at the first touch against his puckered entrance. He started sweating, his heart hammering, then going double time when Wade swallowed down his cock in a single go.

Suddenly, there was a war of sensation happening inside of Dean’s mind. There was the tight, sweet suction of Wade’s mouth and the strange probing of a finger pushing against his very clenched ass. Then Wade’s finger slipped inside, and Dean let out a moan that he did not mean to be so loud. It didn’t feel bad, exactly. It just felt...weird. Different.

Slowly, the hunter began to relax into the intrusion. His muscles released and everything started to feel...good. Really good. Even when Wade added a second finger, Dean was caught between wanting to thrust up into the merc’s mouth or grind down on his hand. And when Wade’s fingers brushed his prostate, Dean felt like he was having an out of body experience.

He was moaning and his breath coming through his teeth, and he felt himself getting close as he fisted his hands in the sheets. So very close. Every touch against that sensitive bundle of nerves spread heat throughout his body, and he could only say, “Wade...I’m gonna...I…”

And then he was spilling down the merc’s throat, and Wade just kept sucking, lapping up every drop and swallowing it down as the hunter’s body tightened around his fingers. He withdrew, running his hands up and down Dean’s thighs as the hunter’s breath slowed and his eyes opened.

“That…uh…” A smile spread his lips, and Dean said, “Good. Very good.”

“Awww,” Wade said with a twinkle in his eye. “You think I’m done, don’t you?”

Dean licked his lips, looking down as Wade ripped open a condom. Wade poured more lube into his hand, slicking himself up before grabbing Dean’s legs and lifting them up to his shoulders.

At the first blunt press of the head of Wade’s cock, Dean wasn’t sure if he could do this. But like everything else, the merc took his time, breaching his entrance slowly. Dean gritted his teeth, breathing through the burn and stretch as Wade slowly filled him. He was shaking, and at the same time he was getting hard again.

When he finally opened his eyes and looked up at Wade, Dean was awestruck by the look of absolute bliss on the merc’s face. His eyes were closed, his head tilted forward, slow, shuddering breaths coming out of his mouth. Despite the scars, or maybe because of them, he looked absolutely beautiful.

Dean reached out, touching the merc’s trembling stomach, moving his hips to urge Wade to start moving. The merc took the hint, and pulled out, then thrust back in with a firm snap of his hips that made Dean cry out. He kept the pace slow and hard, ripping sounds out of Dean’s throat that the hunter barely recognized as his own.

Wade dropped Dean’s legs from his shoulders, and Dean locked his ankles behind the merc’s back as he braced his arms on either side of the hunter’s body. The change of angle lined him up perfectly with Dean’s prostate, nailing it with each thrust, and swallowing up Dean’s moans with his mouth. The heat, the sounds, the feel of it all...it was almost too much for the merc to process, who had been on his own for so long, had gone for so long without the touch of another human being.

He took Dean’s cock in hand, stroking him in time with his thrusts, which were becoming more erratic as he moved closer to climax. Dean gripped Wade’s shoulders, as his body spasmed and came with a moan muffled into Wade’s chest. A few more thrusts, and Wade joined him, his whole body going rigid.

After a moment, he rolled off of Dean, falling onto the bed in a boneless, breathless heap. Dean immediately cuddled up against him, his heart still pounding and body thrumming. No words were exchanged, just soft kisses, until Wade extracted himself from Dean’s octopus-like embrace and went to the door.

He returned a moment later, and said, “Shower time, big boy.”

Dean looked at him like he was more crazy than normal. “How can you even walk?”

“Healing factor,” he said with a smirk. Then he scooped Dean off the bed, standing him on his feet but supporting all his weight. He pressed a kiss to the hunter’s forehead, and said, “Come on. Shower first, then sleep.”

After scooping up some clothes out of the wardrobe, Wade walked them both to the bathroom turned on the water in the corner stall, then stood Dean under the hot stream. Dean let out an appreciative sound as Wade stepped up behind him and started cleaning him with a soft loofah. The warm scent of mint and apples filled Dean’s nose, and he melted against the merc. Soon they were both slicked up with soap and just standing in the water touching and kissing as the evidence of their tryst ran down the drain.

The door opened, and they both just laughed, simultaneously saying, “Always interrupted,” then laughed again.

“Good morning!” Charlie’s chipper voice chirped.

“Mornin’,” Dean said, trying to keep his voice steady as Wade started running his fingers up and down his sides.

Charlie turned on the water a couple stalls away, and said, “Sam is on his way. Said he and Castiel and a bunch of other people just landed in Kansas City.”

Dean gripped Wade’s hands, stilling him from his attempted tickle session. “When did he call?”

“About 30 minutes ago?” Charlie hummed a note, and then added, “He tried to call you and Wade, but neither of you were answering.”

Wade laughed, and said, “We were busy.”

Charlie laughed, realizing it wasn’t just Dean. “Whoa. So am I in here during sexy shower time or something?”

“No,” Dean answered, at the same time Wade said, “Yes.”

“Wow,” Charlie said with a snort. “That’s not awkward. Not awkward at all.”

Wade and Dean finished their joint shower, decidedly less sexy than it started, and were both dressed and brushing their teeth around the corner at the sinks. Charlie joined them a few minutes later, wearing a tank top with Hello Kitty on the chest and blue jeans. For the first time, Dean saw the burn on Charlie’s shoulder. His brow furrowed.

“How’d that happen?” he asked, gesturing to her shoulder with his toothbrush.

Charlie sighed. “Witch fight. I got hit by this weird magic dust. Hurt like hell.”

Dean frowned. “Did you gank the bitch?”

“Totally ganked the bitch,” Charlie said with pride. “I was kind of disappointed when I found out that water didn’t melt the Oz witches. But, luckily, bullets are very effective.”

“Whoa,” Wade said with his head cocked. “You’re kinda hard core.”

Charlie smiled. “I’m a bad ass.”

Wade nodded, then looked at Dean, and said, “Must run in the family.”

Dean grinned, and Wade pressed a toothpaste kiss against the hunter’s mouth, with Charlie letting out a not-so-soft, “Awwww!”

 

 **  
**Dean shook his head, and said, “I am a demon, and this is my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaand..... That's all I'm posting for now. The rest is in need of editing and TLC.


End file.
